


Come Back

by zipplekink



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Zayn, M/M, Smut, Top Liam, post zayn leaving the band this really hurt me to write so be careful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3987196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zipplekink/pseuds/zipplekink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I’m sorry,” Liam says quickly, grimacing at himself. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. That’s just how I feel. All of the time. For like, most situations, actually. Like – just by my side is where I need you to be -”</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Or, the one where Zayn needs to be with Liam after the Billboard Music Awards and Liam needs to be with Zayn, always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY. SO, this is quite sad throughout so please be warned. And also don't hate me thank you

Zayn curls into his body pillow as he turns on the television, that pain expanding in his chest and dancing around with the nerves he doesn’t understand why he has.

There is a knock on his door, followed by a soft, “Zayn? Why don’t you come out with us? Get your mind off things.”

He doesn’t answer, having already told her he much rather stay in. He needs to stay in, watch his boys –

He doesn’t see them at first, and he doesn’t pay much attention because he hasn’t ever really been a fan of awards shows. Watching them home at least. It’s not until he hears the familiar, _One Direction_ that he focuses his attention.

His eyes slide over each one of them, a smile on his lips that grows high into his cheeks when his eyes find _him_. He looks good, really good (like he always does). The hair on the top of his head a little longer, beard a little fuller and ruddy, colored lips pushed into a smile Zayn loves, craves being the reason for and is the one thing that always can comfort him the best.

He loves Liam in suits too – always has. It makes it nearly impossible for Zayn to keep his hands off of Liam, especially if he has been drinking. Like last year, at the American Music Awards – fuck, he knows it probably was obvious when they went on stage again that Liam had just dragged Zayn off to the bathroom, with Zayn looking a bit more ruffled than the first time they had been on stage.

But Liam, always put together, just grinned at him while they accepted the speech and the thought of that still makes arousal shoot down his spine.

He even likes the navy colored scarf he wears now, with silky looking material and a pattern that matches his pocket tie. Zayn wonders if Liam thought of that himself -

_“There’s one more person to share this with.”_

The words tug at that mix of feelings in his chest before Liam says them. Zayn knows Liam better than anyone, can tell that he is trying to look composed when he’s not, and he sees the hesitancy on his face, maybe even the same pain Zayn feels tinting his features.

_“Our brother Zayn.”_

Zayn keeps his eyes on Liam until they are off the stage, clenching them once they are gone. He hates the tears in the back of his throat, the way they prick at his eyes. He hates them. He is _tired_ of them, because it was supposed to get better -

_r u watchin?? we won top duo/group :)))))_

Zayn bites around a smile as he gets the message, quickly tapping out one of his own.

_yes i am love you x_

Liam calls him a few hours later, talking faster than usual and excitedly and Zayn just listens, not wanting to say much because he doesn’t want Liam to hear the emotions in his voice.

++

Liam shuffles into the house, yawning. He had slept on the plane, but he never sleeps well on planes. It’s nothing like sleeping in your own bed, and he has really missed his own bed.

He plops his suitcases in the entry way for later when he hears the familiar clink of chains. He frowns, finding the source of the sound as Loki pads into the room, tail wagging rapidly behind him.

“Hey boy,” Liam says in confusion, bending over slightly to scratch the top of his head. Paddy was supposed to pick him up from his parents later today. “What are you doin’ here?”

The dog just stares back at up at him of course, tongue hanging out and Liam heads in the direction he came from. The living room.

Loki speeds past him, jumping on the couch and watching Liam from over the back of it as he walks into the room. He sees the arm dangling over the back of the couch, covered in swirls of ink before he sees smatter of black hair plopped on a pillow from Liam’s room.

Zayn is asleep, eyes closed and lips parted. He has a hand flattened on his chest, and his legs are spread enough to fit Loki in between them, who lies down and hooks his head over one of Zayn’s thighs.

Zayn looks so soft that warmth spreads across Liam’s chest, even without the fluff of hair that Liam loves so much, the way it ruffles and flies out around his head in the morning. He wears a pair of light gray joggers that Liam is pretty sure are his, and that blocky red and black plaid shirt that has been passed between the two of them so often he can no longer remember who the original owner was.

Loki waggles his tail as Liam comes closer, and he hushes him quietly before he bends over Zayn, cupping his cheek slightly to rub a thumb over his warm skin. It’s around noon, and he knows Zayn can sleep all day, but he looks peaceful – calm, and Liam doesn’t want to wake him up and ruin that.

Zayn’s brows scrunch together some, but he doesn’t move much more than that. Liam nicks a cigarette from the pack on the coffee table and shuffles out to the back yard, calling Loki with him.

He shouldn’t be surprised that Zayn is here, because Zayn still has a key to his house – but he _is_ surprised, because they haven’t talked much since the night of the awards. Even though that was only a few days ago, but Liam was nervous that maybe he shouldn’t have said what he did, because Zayn had seemed distant.

But that didn’t necessarily mean it was bad, really. Zayn was always distant about his feelings, whether they are good or bad. Liam doesn’t mind, because he feels as if Zayn is more open with him than the others – but sometimes he wonders if he had been more insistent on getting Zayn to tell him what was going on he could have made him stay.

Liam closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. He couldn’t have, he knows that. He can’t change how Zayn feels, can’t fix it or be enough for him to stay around.

And that is probably why it still hurts so bad.

Soft footsteps pad behind him and Liam looks over the back of the lawn chair he sits in to see Zayn walking towards him.

Zayn scratches lightly at his tummy, shirt pulled up some by his hand that Liam can see a glimpse of hair above his briefs. His eyes are heavy, a ghost of a smile on his lips before he slides onto Liam’s lap, tugging the cigarette from his fingertips.

“Hey,” he says, pulling his legs up and Liam’s hand goes around his lower back instinctively to keep him balanced.

“Nice surprise,” Liam says softly, watching Zayn’s eyes flutter shut as his lips wrap around the butt of the cigarette.

Zayn nods as he exhales away from him. “Missed you.”

“I told you that you could have come to Vegas with me,” Liam tells him, tilting his head some. He has missed Zayn too, but it isn’t as easy for him to say. Because then he won’t stop, and words will flood out of his mouth and half of them he doesn’t want Zayn to hear.

“Nah,” Zayn says, flicking the cigarette and shifting in Liam’s lap. He presses his lips to Liam’s forehead, and it’s simple but it makes his breath catch because they haven’t kissed in months, and he has craved it. “I don’t think I can handle that, yet.”

Liam nods, not pressing further.

Zayn takes the hat off of his head, placing it on his own with a grin and a crinkled nose. “Didn’t know this was your style now? Should I start worrying about sheer shirts?”

Liam chuckles, shaking his head. “No. This is your shirt,” he explains, dragging Zayn’s fingers to the button up he wears. “And I remember you having a similar hat, so maybe you should worry about nose rings instead of sheer shirts.”

Zayn snorts, sliding off Liam’s lap to stand up, grabbing his hand to tug Liam with him. “Well, it looks good,” he says, placing the hat back on the top of Liam’s head.

Liam’s cheeks flush and he lets Zayn pull him back inside, fingers linked together. Loki pads in behind him, tail still wagging.

Even though he feels exhausted, it is easy for Zayn to convince him to make breakfast. Zayn slides on the counter beside him, watching Liam as he stands in front of the stove.

And it’s nice at first, just easy banter and Zayn listens intently when Liam talks to him about their last few days in Vegas, and assures him he hadn’t minded missing the after show party to call him.

That was all he wanted to do after Zayn told him he loved him after his shout out. He has heard it plenty of times before, but that time it made a little of that composure he was trying to hold onto break, and he just needed to hear Zayn’s voice.

“I um, wanted to tell you thank you,” Zayn says, and Liam can hear the nerves making his voice shake some. “For like, what you said at the award show?”

Liam shrugs like it’s no big deal, scrambling the eggs before he clicks the burner off and moves the pan to another, unused one.

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s just as much your award as ours.”

“Liam,” Zayn warns, voice quiet. His brows furrow when a broken look crosses his face and Liam comes over, hands flat on the counter on either side of his legs. He wants to get rid of that expression Zayn is making for good, he fucking hates it –

“Top group,” Liam explains softly. Zayn looks away, looking down between them instead of Liam’s eyes, which are intent on his face. “Not top group of the last two months. Therefore, the award is just as much yours as ours.”

Zayn nods, shoulders shrugging jerkily like he does sometimes, but he still doesn’t look up so Liam presses two fingers under his chin, making him. It hurts, the expression he wears. Watery eyes, starting to red around the rim and his lip trembles just enough that it is noticeable, and he pulls it in between his teeth as if to stop it.

“Zayn,” Liam whispers, pinching his chin so he can brush their lips together. It is just a peck, but he needs it before this conversation can continue, to balance him some.

“Sorry,” Zayn says, voice watery. “I just don’t deserve that.”

Liam makes a noise of frustration because Zayn is so stubborn. “That’s bullshit. Five years, Zayn. You deserve credit for that. And when you come back –“

“Liam,” Zayn says roughly, pushing Liam back some so he can hop off of the counter. His face is angry, maybe even a little regretful and Liam snaps his lips shut, staring back at him. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. I probably shouldn’t have come here anyway.”

Liam grabs his wrist before he can walk off. They don’t ever talk about it really, but when they do bring it up it feels like that is all they ever talk about it, and it never ends well.

“You should have come,” Liam insists, confused on why he said that part. He is always welcomed, always. Liam has made that clear – nothing has changed. And panic floods through him at the mere idea of Zayn leaving right now, and it coats his words when he speaks. “Because I need you, okay? And I would like you to stay, please.”

When the words leave his lips, he regrets them instantly, before Zayn gives him a hard look, remembering the same thing as him.

_Please think about it more, Z. You should stay. I need you, okay? I need you to stay –_

“I’m sorry,” Liam says quickly, grimacing at himself. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. That’s just how I feel. All of the time. For like, most situations, actually. Like – just by my side is where I need you to be -”

Zayn groans, stepping forward and sliding an arm around his neck. “I need you too, Liam. But I need you to stop bringing up me coming back, okay?”

Liam shakes his head stubbornly, holding Zayn’s hips to pull their bodies together. That is probably why they never talk about it, because this is how the conversation ends every time – with Zayn shutting down after Liam asks him to come back. “I need you to.”

Zayn makes a pained noise before they are finally kissing, lips slotting together perfectly. It has been months since the last time they kissed, sometime around the start of the tour. And he has missed it so much – isn’t really sure why it stopped, or the moment he realized he couldn’t pull Zayn somewhere hidden and plant their lips together like they always do.

Zayn cups the back of his head, tilting his chin some to deepen the kiss, tongue working against the seam of Liam’s lips until he parts them. The food goes forgotten as Liam steps Zayn back against the refrigerator, sliding his palms underneath that plaid shirt just to feel more of Zayn’s skin.

A soft moan vibrates against his lips as he sucks Zayn’s tongue gently into his mouth, tasting the stale of cigarettes and something fruity. He blankets Zayn’s smaller frame with his own, stitching the length of their bodies together.

“Liam,” Zayn gasps brokenly, eyes blown out before he moves his lips to Liam’s throat.  He nudges a knee between Liam’s legs, spreading them to grind his hips up against Liam’s, silently telling him what he needs.

It has been even longer since they did that, touched each other in a way other than their regular gentle, innocent touches because Liam has a problem with being unable to stop himself from touching Zayn.

The last time was during the break before the tour, when Liam surprised Zayn at the studio because he had blown him off twice in a row and he missed him, and it had been angry and quick and in the back of Liam’s car.

“Okay,” Liam huffs out, cupping the back of Zayn’s thighs to pick him up, his legs hooking around his waist. He tilts his chin for Zayn to kiss him again, blindly walking through the house.

The hat gets knocked somewhere and Zayn works at the buttons of the plaid shirt he wears, letting it fall to the floor of the hallway outside of Liam’s bedroom.

Zayn starts on the buttons of Liam’s shirt when he drops him on the bed. He leans forward, unable to stop kissing Zayn as he works on the buttons of his jeans too, eager to get their clothes off so all of their skin can touch.

“You know I love you right?” Zayn hums, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

“I do,” Liam says, pushing Zayn back so he lies flat and Liam can crawl up his body, biting back his _it doesn’t change anything, does it?_

He drags his fingers up Zayn’s torso, cupping his cheeks and sliding one hand across the prickly hair at the top of his head. Liam misses the longer hair suddenly, wanting to card his fingers through it.

Liam kisses Zayn slow, lips hard against the other man’s so he can feel how much Liam loves him too with every drag of their lips. Zayn pushes the shirt off of his shoulders, nails scratching slightly at his skin until Liam pulls up and shucks it off.

Zayn watches him, eyes dark as he hooks his fingers on Zayn – Liam’s joggers. He pushes off the bed, lifting his hips so Liam can pull them past his hips, revealing the way his cock strains against his briefs.

“You had a new pack of briefs in your drawer,” Zayn says shyly, biting around his grin. “And I opened them. Hope that’s okay? I didn’t actually bring anything with me and I thought you were getting back yesterday.”

“Yeah,” Liam breathes, leaning back down to scrape his lips across Zayn’s chest. “You can take whatever you want.”

Zayn tugs at his shoulders, pulling Liam up so he can kiss him again. “Just want you,” he sighs before he presses their lips back together.

Liam grabs one of Zayn’s thighs, spreading his legs so Zayn can feel how hard he is as he grinds against him. He tastes each soft moan that rolls of Zayn’s tongue, their lips moving more desperately, harder against each other as Zayn rolls his hips in sync with Liam’s.

He thinks his chest is going to explode with the way it is expanding, and he pulls away to distract himself, biting on his tongue to hold in everything as he reaches into his night stand.

Zayn keeps his fingers on Liam’s side, breathing heavily like he is overwhelmed when Liam comes back with a bottle of lube. He nods when Liam looks at him and Liam nods back, lips going back to his chest to move them against every inch of Zayn’s skin.

He bites softly at the trail of hair under his navel, making Zayn whimper before he hooks his fingers under the band of Zayn’s briefs. His breath gets stuck in his throat before he pulls them down, eyes falling shut as he kisses Zayn’s bare cock softly where it lays heavy and wet on Zayn’s belly.

He flattens his tongue as he drags it up the length of him, rolling around the head as he pulls Zayn’s briefs down more. He wants Zayn down his throat, fingers pulling in his hair when he takes all of him, but he knows that isn’t what Zayn is asking for right now.

With effort he pulls up and onto his knees, taking off Zayn’s pants and briefs completely before he slicks his fingers. Zayn wraps a loose hand around his prick, watching Liam as he lowers his fingers.

“Fuck,” Zayn breathes when Liam slides a finger against his hole. “Missed this too.”

Liam grins, nudging the tip of his finger past the rim gently because it’s been awhile for Zayn. Well, he assumes, hopes -

“Been awhile yeah?” Liam says, biting his lip as he glances at him quickly.

Zayn grins, knowing Liam is jealous at the idea of him being with anyone else. Other than her – “You were the last person I did anything with, babe.”

Zayn grinds against him as he fucks his finger into him slowly. Red splotches up his chest, slides across his cheeks and a shy look crosses his face but he doesn’t pull his eyes from Liam’s.

“Come back,” Liam says, pushing his finger deeper into Zayn. He doesn’t mean to say it, honestly. The words just kind of slip past his lips but they have been replaying in his head for months now, and he has never been good at keeping them quiet.

“Liam,” Zayn whines in complaint, brows pushing together and he grinds his hips a little harder. His voice is choked, and Liam watches him shake his head, clench his eyes closed.

Liam presses in a second digit, scissoring his fingers slowly until the resistance is less. Zayn lets out small whimpers, quiet moans that echo beautifully against the walls.

“You won’t have to miss me if you come back,” Liam reminds him softly. The feeling in his chest chokes him, and he leans forward, kissing the inside of Zayn’s thighs so he doesn’t have to see the look on Zayn’s face when he responds.

“Liam, just –“

His words are cut off into a moan as Liam fucks his fingers against that ball of nerves. His legs quake some and Liam bites down, hearing the broken sound coating Zayn’s words.

Liam can’t get any more words of his own out, all stuck in his throat so he scissors his fingers in faster, a little less carefully as he presses in a third so he can hurry up and feel Zayn around him. Absolutely desperate for it.

When Zayn grips onto Liam’s shoulders, pulling him up again, he slides his fingers out, hooking an arm around Zayn’s thigh as he goes.

“Promise me you will think about it,” Liam says desperately, wrapping his fingers around his cock to nudge between Zayn’s legs. Zayn narrows his eyes, lips parting but Liam kisses him before he can say no again. “Just – _think_ about it.”

He pushes in gently and Zayn’s breath hitches as he slowly works his cock into him. Liam rests a palm across the top of Zayn’s head, thumb smoothing along his temple as his lips fall open as Liam bottoms out. He is beautiful, eyes fluttering shut and long lashes fanning the high of his cheekbones. His face scrunches some when Liam pulls out and thrusts back in, but Zayn’s fingers dig into his hip to pull him in faster.

“M’good,” Zayn assures.

Liam fucks him slowly, stroking deep so Zayn can feel every drag of his cock, so he can savor every moan Zayn lets out. He sucks at the skin on Zayn’s throat, not caring if he leaves marks because when Zayn leaves him, he hopes they remind Zayn about what he said –

“Liam,” Zayn moans roughly, fingers scratching roughly at the skin on his back like he wants to leave his own marks. “Faster, please.”

Liam obliges, lips crushing against Zayn’s as he thrusts faster, the sound of skin on skin growing louder with Zayn’s moans. Sweat makes his fingers slip against Zayn’s skin, his leg dropping into the mattress before Zayn lifts it and wraps it around Liam’s waist.

He gets rougher, fucking into Zayn harder when those emotions gasp past his lips. Zayn takes it though, urging Liam on with the arch of his back, the desperate moans like Liam is pulling him closer to the edge.

Liam is close too, feeling Zayn clench and quake underneath him. His hips stagger and Zayn’s nails bite angrily into his skin before he lets out a wrecked sound, eyes clenching shut as Liam feels Zayn’s come coat his abdomen.

“Zayn,” he moans brokenly, forehead pressing to Zayn’s. His hips jerk, pleasure washing through him as he comes with a wrecked sound that could rival Zayn’s. He slots their lips together, grinding forward as he pulses inside of him.

Zayn’s palms flatten against his back, sliding down his slick skin and to the curve of his ass, pushing him deeper even though he trembles under Liam.

“I love you, Li,” Zayn chokes out, catching Liam’s lips with his own. The energy around sizzles into something a little more maddening, thickening the air and making it hard for Liam to get breath into his lungs -

Liam presses his elbows in the mattress beside Zayn’s ears, holding himself up because he doesn’t want to stop kissing Zayn as he pulls out. There is salt on his lips, and Zayn’s thumb wipe at the wetness of Liam’s cheeks.

“Stop,” Zayn says quietly, voice desperate. “Stop doing that.”

“No,” Liam says stubbornly, kissing him harder. He can’t stop doing that. The barrier has been broken and his emotions are flooding out of him now – he _can’t_ stop.

Zayn kisses him through it, keeping his palms on Liam’s cheeks, his thumbs wiping away every tear that slips down them. He muffles the sobs on Liam’s lips with his own, slides an arm around his back to press their chests together, and it numbs the ache in his chest.

“I love you,” Zayn murmurs again, sliding the hair on Liam’s sweaty forehead back. His own voice is choked, and Liam can hear the tears in his eyes but he doesn’t want to look at them or he will never stop – “I need you to stop, babe. Please, catch your breath.”

Liam nods, resting their foreheads together as he tries to breathe properly, but when he inhales it gets stuck in his chest and the exhale is shaky and broken –

Zayn’s fingers work at the muscles of his shoulders until Liam collapses on top of him and he wraps his arms around him instead. His lips scrape against Liam’s hairline, a hum that is comforting vibrating in his throat.

They lay like that in silence until Liam huffs out his last sob, his eyes dry and heavy, until his chest rises and falls at a normal pace.

“I am sorry Liam,” Zayn says quietly, tightening his arms so Liam can’t pull away from his chest and look at him. “I just can’t promise anything right now.”

Liam nods. He doesn’t mean to make Zayn feel bad, but he can’t help it. Everything in him tells him to convince Zayn to come back, even though he knows it’s selfish of him. But he promised Zayn he would support him always and he doesn’t want him to think otherwise.

But he thinks Zayn understands. Or tries to, at least. Because Liam genuinely is trying to understand how Zayn feels too.

“I’m sorry,” Liam says back quietly, keeping his cheek pressed to Zayn’s chest. “I don’t mean to be selfish, I just - it hurts, Zayn.”

“I’m sorry Liam,” Zayn says again, even quieter this time. Guilt mixes in with the rest of the emotions Liam feels, because he doesn’t want Zayn to apologize for doing something he needed to do. His emotions are just too confusing to handle any of this properly - “It hurts me too.”

Liam pulls up, leaning over Zayn to give him a soft smile. He doesn’t like showing how upset he is, because he knows it makes people feel bad. Composure, that’s his thing, but lately he has been awful at keeping himself together.

But it’s Zayn – his Zayn, who has been there for five years every moment Liam needed him, and who will still be, even if a tiny voice in the back of his head tries to scare him into thinking he won’t be. He _knows_ he will be.

“Can you just um, promise me you’ll stay here a little longer? And I promise we won’t talk about it?”

Zayn nods, a soft smile on his lips but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I will stay with you as long as you want me here. Just let me clean you up first, yeah?”

Liam nods, feeling kind of stupid for crying so hard with come drying all over his torso. It makes him laugh, bubbling out of his throat and making him crumple forward. Zayn stares at him, brows pushed together and lips quirked up.

“Shower and then _sleep_ ,” Zayn instructs, shaking his head fondly as he links their fingers together and pulls Liam off to the bathroom.

“I’ve gone and ruined amazing sex,” Liam pouts.

Zayn giggles, turning on the shower. “It can’t be amazing if you ruined it, babe.”

“Oh, well –“

Zayn moves in front of him, cupping his cheeks. His face is fond, that smile on his lips - the one just for him. “I’m saying it was amazing, and I would like to do it again.”

“With less tears,” Liam adds apologetically.

Zayn laughs as he nods. “I would like there to always be less tears, yeah?”

Liam nods in understanding, leaning forward to brush their lips together. _There will be, just come back -_

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me your thoughts? [tumblr](http://zipplekink.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/zippIekink) if you need it!


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